Some Days Are Like This

The day started calmly enough. At 7:45, the three oldest children bounded off to school and I was already immersed in the wringer washer's soap suds. Derek and Mandie have yet to learn to entertain themselves constructively while their older siblings are in school, and I am finding out what a negligent mother I am with only my own eyes to watch the two little ones. Mandie got her first bath for the day after playing in a pile of wood shavings and generously filling her hair with sawdust. I literally put the vacuum cleaner to her head before attempting to scrub the fine shavings off her scalp. Freshly washed and dressed, I was about to send her outdoors again when Derek asked for a lollipop. Unwisely, I agreed, blithely imagining that sucking a sticky candy would somehow keep them from worse mischief. As I returned to the clothesline, Tim dashed by on his way to a meeting in town. "Someone is coming to buy study Bibles," he called. "I got the order ready and it's in a box at the library." I nodded absentmindedly. While selling books is not my forte, this sounded simple enough. Returning to the house, I discovered my recently-bathed girlie was a sticky mess and her clean blue dress stained with sweet red drips. I only had time to wash her hands when a rattle at the gate announced the arrival of a book customer. Suddenly I faced a dilemma I had not anticipated. Do I leave Derek and Mandie alone in the house while I run across the street to the library (bookstore) or do I take them with me??? To leave them unattended in the house spells certain disaster; taking them with me- well, they might play in the grass beside the building... Scooping up Mandie and grabbing Derek by the hand, we headed across the street to the waiting customer, just as a second vehicle stopped by our gate. Greeting the two men who were patiently waiting, I opened the library door and invited them in. Derek and Mandie were hard on my heels, but the building is much too small to accommodate more than three or four people, so I sent them outside to play. At this time, two more men arrived at the door and announced that they were here to pick up the study Bibles. As I sat down at the desk to write up their bill, they decided to add more books to their order and began stacking them on the desk where I was working. Suddenly the quiet order of business was rudely shattered by a handful of sand and gravel flying through the open door and across the plywood floor. "Amanda Jane!" I gasped. "Derek, go play in the grass, please!" Derek cheerfully obliged by grasping Mandie under her arms and hauling her off despite her shrieks of protest. "What's the price of Bibles per box?" one of the customers asked as I returned to the desk. "Oh look!" gasped another. "Your little girl- she's eating dirt!" My brain did a sideways flip as I gazed out the door at Mandie's dusty hands wedged firmly in her mouth (two year molars coming in). My mind said, "Ok, I am running a business, and my little girl is eating dirt. What am I supposed to do about it?" But my lips smiled and said, "Oh she's not really eating it; she just put her dirty hands in her mouth for a minute." Back again to writing up the bill. For the third time I tore it up and started over when the customer discovered he didn't have enough cash for that order. Suddenly to my unbelieving eyes there appeared a moto-taxi and two more customers squeezed into the very crowded and overheated building, sending me into further despair. Somehow Mandie slipped inside and began unpacking the stack of books I had so carefully recorded and placed in a box. Seeing my obvious incompetence, one customer attempted to help me by calling out orders to Derek in broken English. "Der-r-rik! Come he-ah pliss!" Finally I had one order completed and two customers dismissed. Then I had to run to the house to get change and business cards. By this time I was sure that leaving the children unattended in the house was a far safer and saner option than having them with me, so I picked up Mandie and hissed at Derek to "watch these people" while I run to the house. A look of panic crossed his face, but I assured him I'd be right back and rushed out before he had time to protest. Leaving Mandie on our front porch, I grabbed the change and raced across the street once more. I tried not to appear too eager as I waved good bye to the second set of customers, and turned to the lady who was still waiting for my services. Sorry, we are out of Thompson Bibles; no, there are no books on Intercession... No Derek, I can't come across the street and open the gate for you, you will have to figure out a way to do it yourself... (And under my breath:) "If one more person comes, I am going to---" And then another car pulled into the driveway. An older couple walked up to the door and greeted me enthusiastically. "Did your husband tell you we're coming? We're from El Progreso and we ordered some books..." They were obviously enjoying an outing together and had plenty of time to visit and ply me with questions. "What denomination do you belong to? Are you something like Amish? I was in Pennsylvania once, and went a theater where the actors dressed like Amish or Mennonites..." Their rambling conversation helped me relax, but I kept a wary eye turned toward our house and wondered nervously at the great silence reaching my ears. At long last the final purchases were made, the sales carefully recorded, farewells spoken, and the door closed behind me. It was noon when I returned to the house, where there was still laundry waiting to be hung up and lunch to cook for the teacher and children who would be out of school in a few minutes. You are probably wondering what Derek and Mandie did during the time they were left alone in the house. Frankly, I do too. I found Derek playing outside, but I have no memory of where Mandie was or what she was doing. Which means that either she was in rare calm behavior, or my mind had somehow gotten lost in the shuffle of the morning's events...

That evening, over grilled chicken and fried fish at Las Glorias, I poured out my tale of woe to my man. He listened with grave interest, murmured sympathetically, and kindly restored my right mind to me. ...Sighs of thanksgiving... All is well once more.